What Is Wrong With This Sentence?
October 30, 2008
From a Lexington Herald-Leader writeup of a recent poll of Kentuckians:
“Sixty-one percent said Obama was a Christian. One percent answered Catholic, 12 percent said other and 12 percent were not sure.”
I’m not really going to complain about the numbers of Kentuckians who refuse to believe that he’s anything but an Islamist Manchurian Candidate, because at least we’re more reasonable than Texas. No: they wind up implying that Catholics are not Christians. Really? I know this is almost certainly just an example of why you need a copy-editor who earns their salary, but really? You do a story on how other people can’t get Obama’s religion right, and then you go and do this?
UPDATE: Whoops, meant to add this to begin with, but: In other Bluegrass news, they’ve arrested the two idiots responsible for the Obama effigy, who are about to experience a very long-term hangover from Tuesday night.
Where I’m Coming From
October 30, 2008
This isn’t meant to be any sort of political autobiography, but a commenter on this post at The Confabulum (part of a longer series between Freddie deBoer and—mostly—Conor Fridersdorf) set me to thinking, and it gives me the chance to salvage a formerly abandoned paragraph I wrote a few months ago. Anyway, on a minor digression, LarryM says:
“[I]ronically, the horror of the Bush administration is another [reason I no longer identify as a liberal] – not that I buy for a second the absurd idea that he governed as a “liberal,” but because his administration did so much to discredit big government generally, of whatever variety.”
It was much the same for me. I’ve gone from being one of a handful of liberals in my high school (not that the non-liberals were all “conservative”—there was a weird authoritarian streak there, I thought) to one of a handful of conservatives among my friends here. And I’d be wrong if I said it didn’t have a lot to do with waking up too many mornings to read Andrew Sullivan linking to and ranting about the Bush Administration’s abuses—torture especially. (Pictures of dead torture victims coming onto the screen just as Dianne Reeves singing “Who’s Minding the Store?” [the Good Night and Good Luck soundtrack; it's wonderful] can only set you up for a really cheerful day, you know.)
It was exceptionally shocking and disturbing to see just what abuses centralized power could cause, even in the United States. To be cliché, I guess a little bit of the shine came off; it took the better part of two decades to realize that there was no divine mandate or natural law saying that we were an inherently non-totalitarian state; that Franklin was really, truly right when he said, “A republic, if you can keep it.” My views have always been informed by a need to avoid and halt evil—I think that’s just natural for a modern Jew (though by no means exclusively, but the words “Never Again” have a certain constant insistence, and a level of constant and nervous sadness)—but now there is a distinct flavor of fear: of what, exactly, centralized power can lead to. Not that it will, of course—but for every Cincinnatus, there’s at least one Antony.
So when I’m skeptical of the federal government getting more involved in health care, or telling Northwestern they’re required to spend at least 5% of their endowment a year (though I wish they would spend more on student aid), or prefer decentralization and talk about how federalism is a wonderful experiment–yeah, this is informing it in part.
There’s a good deal more to it, of course. But what I really wanted to do was bring up this discarded sentence I wrote a while back:
“I don’t know whether to say ‘because of’ or ‘in spite of,’ and there isn’t enough room here to fully explain it, but the truth of the matter is that George W. Bush and Dick Cheney turned me into a conservative.”
(And in case you care, I’ll link to the finished column that came from, which has nothing really to do with conservatism anymore, once it’s online.)
“Nonperson of the Year: You”
October 28, 2008
An earlier post (“We Are All Schizophrenics Now”) somehow led to an offer to expand it into an article on happiness, self, and multiplicity for Culture11’s symposium, “What’s the face of happiness now?” It’s up (and has been all day). So, erm, go read it, please? (I’m still getting used to this whole shameless self-promotion thing, though it kind of comes with the territory.) Excerpt:
But to accept this view of ourselves is to abandon happiness altogether. When each “self” possesses a different conception of what constitutes happiness, the best we can hope for is broken and compromised. We can never be truly satisfied with our lives. If I am controlled by the self who wants a piece of cake rather than the self concerned with dieting, the dieting self cannot be happy, and vice versa. Happiness has become a zero-sum game. Because of this, “you” will always lose.
“May of purest Spirits be found / No ingrateful food”
October 28, 2008
In the wonderfully titled, “The Brisket King, or: The Perils of Dualism,” Andrew Gow channels briefly his inner Wendell Berry. (Well, only insofar as one of my professors channels his inner-Berry when he complains about Plato, but it makes for a good line.) Maybe it would be better put as his inner anti-dualist. It’s an interesting take on things, at the least:
“The carnal is, or course, bad by comparison to ‘the spiritual’ on the conventional ladder on western values (and those of some oriental religions too). Paul’s subordination of flesh to ‘spirit’ requires separation, and produces alienation. Consider this: if there is no real distinction between ‘flesh’ and spirit’, but rather an indissoluble union, as much of the Jewish tradition posits (along with certain others), when we look merely for ‘spirituality’, we are trapped by a badly posed question.
. . .
“If we imagine body and soul as separable (except in death, which leads to we-know-not-what), we are caught in a trap not of our own devising: we are caught looking for something Judaism does not provide or cater to, at least not in isolation: ‘spirituality’. Rather, Judaism provides integrated whole-body exercise of the ‘spiritual’ *capacity*.”
Compare this to what Wendell Berry, in “Health is Membership,” says below, and it gives a pretty good example of why I think that, while Berry’s religious and spiritual views are decidedly Christian (and, in a more particular sense, decidedly Protestant, though I reserve the right to be terribly wrong in this aside), there is also an important universality to them—and I don’t think that it’s at all unintentional
“I strongly doubt the advantage, and even the possibility, of separating these two terms [‘spiritual’ and ‘bodily’].
“What I’m arguing against here is not complexity or mystery but dualism . . . which impl[ies] that the Creation is divided into ‘levels’ that can readily be peeled apart and judged by human beings. . . .
“Our bodies are involved in the world. Their needs and desires and pleasures are physical. Our bodies hunger and thirst, yearn toward other bodies, grow tired and seek rest, rise up rested, eager to exert themselves. All these desires may be satisfied with honor to the body and its maker, but only if much else besides the individual body is brought into consideration. . . . We must consider the body’s manifold connections to other bodies and to the world.”
It is ignorance of this fact—that if we are spiritual beings we are spiritual beings living in a physical world and so holiness must incorporate the physical, not escape it—that leads to things like the scandals at the Rubashkin Agriprocessors plant in Iowa: a kosher slaughterhouse not following kashrus, violating child labor laws, using undocumented workers to avoid paying proper wages and providing decent working conditions, dumping unsafe pollutants, and then impersonating others while attempting a cover-up. It’s no wonder they—formerly the largest kosher slaughterhouse—just lost their kosher certification.
What happened is that the Rubashkin family forgot that keeping kosher isn’t about following the letter of the law; that Judaism is about more than that. Kosher foods are supposedly better than non-kosher foods because the food—from the raising of animals on—has been treated with the reverence it deserves. Even without their extra, non-kosher wounds, I’d say that their extra-legal activities mean everything Agriprocessors produces falls short.
As it stands now, neither Wendell Berry’s ham sandwich nor Moshe Rubashkin’s brisket are kosher, but if I had to give my opinion on which is closest, I’d go with Mr. Berry’s sandwich.
The Perils of Having A Miniature Herb Garden Behind Your Couch
October 27, 2008
We have parsley, basil, rosemary, and mint (or, as I like to put it, we’re just short of a Simon and Garfunkel song) between the window and the couch in my apartment. I used to think that the worst that could happen already had: the mint, paying no heed to the little tag that says it should peak at fifteen inches tall, is now over two feet in height, double what it was two months ago when we bought it. It’s starting to border on Little Shop of Horrors-esque.
Now, quite literally overnight, they have given birth to several dozen gnat/fruit-fly-like creatures. And the problem is, we need to find a way to get rid of the damn little buggers without killing the plants or making them inedible. As much as I may enjoy talking to them, I fully intend to eat them.
It’s also confusing me a little that they appeared on the first truly cold day this fall. Not to mention that I just had to bail out the dishwasher because we (read: I) put too much soap in it. (On the bright side, that, unlike uninvited flies living in your apartment, is A Good Character Building Experience.)
Nothing Quite Like Boarding A Sinking Ship
October 25, 2008
So Freddie deBoer is off on another one of his gauntlet-throwing sprees. And he’s got a point. The conservative “movement”—whatever that means; I think it has something to do with those who are voting for the GOP come hell or high water—is nasty. Divisive. And, yeah, disgusting in its virulence.
But there’s no way I can get around the fact that I’m a conservative. I came late to the party, too (though I do have what might be an unconscious fetish for losing sides: I’m a Cubs fan by no geographical obligation, and Kentucky hasn’t been to the Final Four since I came of an age to really live and die by them). So yeah, after more or less a year of slowly realizing my views were shifting, I accepted where I was. And then I looked out and saw the shit flying through the air.
As I’ve already put it, I got to the gates of Conservative-Land, took a good look at the doorman, and told him to hold on just a little bit; I’m going to go sit on that bench over there with a drink until after the election.
I have the joyous task of not merely defending being a conservative at this time, but explaining that I have become a conservative. (At the moment, I’m in a coffeeshop—my favorite, where they start my drink when I walk in the door—but keep glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one’s reading what I’m typing and giving me nasty looks.) It’s not really easy—especially when the school paper was unaware until Thursday that there were, in fact, conservatives on this campus.
I’m easing my friends (those who haven’t been reading me ramble on, at least) into this knowledge. My Bob Barr vote was about as good a middle-step as I could get, but the response, at least a half-dozen times last night, was: “You did WHAT?” (And my Wendell Berry write-in vote for Senate would have gotten a similar response, if anyone else I was around had heard of him.)
But I’m pretty sure that John Schwenkler and Scott Payne are on target. The wild-eyed partisans may freak me out, and I may not want their company most of the time, but there’s not much I can do about their existence. The task is to make conservatism something better than what it now is. (And I’ll admit: as a political movement in this country, it’s more or less out of ideas. I’d have trouble naming a “leader” who could answer the challenges that Freddie throws down here—but seriously: aren’t gauntlets in limited supply or something? See, now, for the sake of my own self-respect, I have to try to answer him. Just not quite yet.)
The best way to counter accusations of being a part of the “stupid party” (or ideology, or philosophy, or worldview, or whatever you want to call it) is to be an intelligent, thoughtful conservative. Not a conservative from unthinking, traditional reflex, but from reflection and intellectual rigor. If those of us who are appalled by the words and deeds of those who earn the epithet for us abandon ship, then that’s all it will be. And we’ll be floating in a nether-void while the left—the combined forces of their reflective and unthinking members, because we’ve all got both—does battle with the Dittoheads.
And there is always the possibility that it will get worse before it gets better. As Andrew Sullivan cautions:
“This is what happened to the British Tories after the Blair landslide in 1997. The rump was even more toxic after the defeat than before it. A decade later, and they still aren’t back in power, but they have managed the very difficult task of getting back to the center. It isn’t easy.”
Precisely because of the difficulty, thinking, intelligent conservatives are needed. If the only people left aboard are those peddling the “Real America/Fake America” bullshit, the ship’s going to go down, and while Scott Payne may be indulging in a touch of hyperbole, he’s got a point about what will follow:
“To simply give up on conservatism is to give up on a vital and historical element of the American psyche and identity. Without well meaning advocates, that element of the American identity will continue to rot and, whether liberals and independents like it or not, eat away at the fabric of American life as a whole.”
Or maybe I’ve just got too much affinity for Hektor than is healthy. We’ll see, I guess.

